


Couldn't Tell You Why

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Sam, Ficlet, M/M, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean couldn't tell you why he kissed his baby brother that night. But he could tell you that he'd never, in a million years, regret it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Couldn't Tell You Why

**Author's Note:**

> Just a smutty little oneshot, kinda fluffy, mostly porny.  
> (The italics aren't just there, they're supposed to be Dean's inner thoughts, I don't know if that worked out.)

Dean couldn't tell you what got into him that night. Too many beers, _I only had four_ , too much time alone, _I'm never alone,_ the stress of the job, _yeah, let's go with that_... Or maybe it was those eyes, 23 years and he still couldn't tell you the color of that boy's eyes. Maybe it was his hair, he really needs to cut it, please _God never cut it_. Maybe his smile, those dimples and the curve of those precious lips, somehow always soft despite the constantly changing climates their job required.

He couldn't tell you why he did it, but he knows, in the darkest part of his mind, that he'd never regret kissing his brother that night.

 

Sam's mouth was soft, mint and beer and a taste uniquely Sam. He expected a push away, a punch, a slap, but not the hands on his cheeks. Sam's calloused hands _they used to be soft_ , grabbing at his face, the needy suck of air between their locked mouths.

He didn't expect the moan, pulled from his brother's chest by an invisible wire when Dean backed up. His long lashes fluttering up, showing mood ring eyes blown black.

Sam's mouth was back on his in a second, rising from the chair he'd been sprawled in, fisting Dean's flannel like he'd run away, _I'll never run from you._

The backs of Dean's knees hit the bed first, before he found himself sprawled on it, the ugly, itchy comforter tickling the back of his neck, _we need a nice motel._

Sam was panting when Dean sat up, grabbing his belt and undoing it. Sam let him, _I didn't expect that_ , shifting so he could whip the leather from the loops.

 

Things were a blur after the belt hit the floor, two brothers bare as the day they were born, a tangle of limbs, _mostly Sam's with those legs like a calf._ Dean managed the upper hand, palms pressed tight to Sam's biceps, mouths mashed together, _the mouth you fed 23 years ago_. Sam relented, spreading his legs under his big brother, a perfect image of trust.

 

Dean should have come to his senses. He should have stopped when his mouth was kissing his baby brother's heavy cock. He should have come to his senses, stopped, when hands fisted his hair, when his tongue was deep in the most private part of Sam. He should have stopped when he heard Sam beg, that rough voice, pleading with his big brother to fuck him senseless.

 

There was still time to stop when he fished out the lube, when he had two fingers deep inside Sam, _he's a virgin_ , and Sam was a writhing mess on the ugly comforter. Time slipping by when his hand rubbed lube over his own cock, thick with need.

 

Fuck time. Fuck coming to his senses. Fuck stopping. No. He was lost the second he kissed his baby brother, a circle of need and dependency finally completed. Maybe he was lost the second Sam was put into his arms as a newborn, when his mother and father both cooed over how precious they were... _Fuck the past._

 

The only thing that mattered was Sam. Sam. _Baby brother_. Sammy. Sam's hands, fingers digging rivets into his back. Sam's mouth, open wide with a silent scream. Sam's eyes, screwed shut. Sam's cock, heavy on his stomach, jerking and twitching as he came untouched. Sam. Sam. Sam.

The mantra of his name in Dean's head was verbalized as Dean came, a smug satisfaction as he cried out for his brother that he was the first one, _only one_ , to turn those insides pink to white.

 

Dean couldn't say what got into him that night. But he had never been more happy than right now, this very second, falling asleep with his baby brother in his arms.


End file.
